


Perfect Timing

by titanialioness



Series: Perfect Timing [1]
Category: The Guild Codex: Demonized - Annette Marie
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book 3 Spoilers, F/M, Fluff, Robin POV, shameless fluff, smooches and stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:27:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25326907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/titanialioness/pseuds/titanialioness
Summary: A collection of oneshots/drabbles of what might have happened if not for some conveniently timed interruptions...Currently includes:1. Lunch at Carlo's Calzones2. Fluff after battling the īnkav3. Extended hug scene4. More handfed chocolates
Relationships: Robin Page/Zylas et Vh'alyir
Series: Perfect Timing [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1878502
Comments: 23
Kudos: 49





	1. Carlo’s Calzones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slaying Monsters for the Feeble - CHAPTER 20
> 
> If Zora hadn't interrupted lunchtime at Carlo's Calzones...

I drew in a deep breath, reveling in the glorious aroma of grease and cheese and baked to perfection calzones. I’d never eaten at Carlo’s, but Amalia had said it was amazing—and based on the smell alone, I believed it.

The three of us (including Zylas in his human disguise) shuffled into the crowded restaurant and to a booth near the back. I pushed Zylas into the corner and slid in after him. My diminutive size wouldn’t block much of his weird, bulky outfit or conspicuously non-human skin tone, but it was better than nothing.

I flipped up the menu, angling it to hide Zylas from any curious patrons looking our way.

Zylas leaned into me, his heat seeping through to my skin despite our layers of clothes. “What is this?”

“The menu,” I whispered. “It lists all the food they make. We’ll tell the server what we want and she’ll bring it to us in a few minutes.”

“The spicy pesto calzone is excellent.” Amalia set down her menu and shot a glare at Zylas. “Do _not_ order him anything. He eats like a freak.”

“It smells good,” he growled. “I want to try it.”

“Too bad.”

“You can share mine,” I said quickly. If he had to sit with us, I needed to make sure he behaved. Still, I couldn’t help shooting a glare at Amalia to remind her that she’d insisted on this. “I’ll order the vegetarian one.”

The waitress took our orders without any disasters, even though her smile faltered a bit when Zylas grinned at her. I jabbed him with my elbow but he didn’t look any less amused as she scurried away with our orders.

After scanning the restaurant and deciding no one had taken special notice to the demon sitting beside me, I forced myself to breathe easier. Acting jumpy would only draw more attention, after all.

Amalia, not nearly as concerned as she should have been, propped her chin on her palm. “We’re getting nowhere searching for the vamps. We can give it another try after lunch, but what’s our Plan B?”

We launched into a discussion about where these demonically enhanced vampires might have come from and how they were connected to Claude. They were both looking for Uncle Jack and, most likely, my family grimoire. But why? Were they working together? Demonica was the common link between all of it, but why would vampires want a Demonica grimoire?

I rubbed my face as if it could ease the headache building behind my eyes. “We’re missing something for sure. What else could vampires want with a grimoire?”

Zylas didn’t even try to pretend he was listening. His attention was solely fixated on the table beside ours, where a woman had just dug into what looked like a Death By Cheese calzone. Steam billowed from the meal as she cut into the golden, flaky crust, sending melted cheese cascading into her plate.

“The grimoire’s at the center of everything,” Amalia said with a shrug, “So I think—” 

Zylas leaned into me, distracting me from the rest of Amalia’s thought. I elbowed him in the ribs but he only pressed closer, drawn toward the siren song of the woman’s calzone.

“Would you be patient?” I hissed, elbowing him again—harder this time. “We’ll get ours in a few minutes.”

“It smells good,” he growled. “What is it, _drādah?_ ”

“Calzones are like pizza dough with filling in the middle. Pizza dough is like, uh, flaky bread,” I clarified when his brows knitted. “They usually have cheese inside, and ours will have some vegetables too.”

His head tilted, and even though he still wore his sunglasses, I knew his eyes had gravitated back toward the calzones at the table beside ours.

I looked back at Amalia. “Sorry. You were saying?”

She arched one eyebrow with an are-you-serious scowl. “I was _saying—_ ”

Two steaming plates plopped down in front of us. “One spicy pesto, one vegetarian, and hot water for your tea,” the server said, setting a steaming steel kettle in the empty space next to Zylas. She beamed at us. “The kettle is hot, dears. Anything else I can grab for you?”

Zylas’s hand shot out, pushing aside the kettle to grab the scalding calzone on my plate.

The server gasped. “Careful, dear. You’ll burn yourself!”

“Zylas,” I hissed. He scowled but yanked back his hand. Turning back to the startled waitress, I forced a cheery note into my voice. “We’re all good! Thank you!”

She nodded, still frowning worriedly at Zylas as if afraid he’d hurt himself. “Well… enjoy!”

Air I didn’t know I’d been holding burst from my lungs as she scurried away toward another table.

“I told you he eats like a freak,” Amalia muttered.

Zylas fixed her with a smoldering glare.

But Amalia was right. Zylas didn’t eat like a human, and we couldn’t risk his methods drawing attention.

“That food is way too hot for a human to just grab and swallow like that. And you can’t just swallow it whole. Here,” I said, reaching across him to grab the napkin-wrapped utensils by his elbow. “This is a fork. See?”

Zylas stared at the metal dubiously.

“You cut it, like this,” I said, slicing off a piece with the knife and jabbing the bite-size morsel with his fork. I lifted the piece to his mouth for him to eat. “Think of it as part of fooling all these stupid humans.”

He jolted away from my outstretched fork and shot me a scalding look. His fingers brushed mine as he took the fork from me. “I can do it myself.” Then, even quieter, I heard him mutter. “ _Zh’ ūltis_.”

With a level of absolute focus as if he were about to fight a great enemy, Zylas lifted the piece to his mouth. Then the breading tore and the piece tumbled down his chest and onto his lap, smearing cheese everywhere.

“ _Kasht!_ ” Zylas slammed down the fork, picked up the calzone morsel by hand, and plopped it into his mouth.

Snickering, I snatched up a napkin and began wiping the cheese off his chest. “The great and mighty Zylas, bested by the common fork.”

“ _Dilēran_ , this fork. Slow and worthless, like many _hh’ainun_ things.”

He glared at the fork in question. Grinning, I dabbed at some cheese on his chin.

“Uuuuuggggh!” Amalia groaned. “Seriously, guys? I feel like a third wheel.”

I jolted away from Zylas and dropped the napkin as if it were on fire. My mouth dropped open, heat flooding my cheeks as I scrambled for an objection. “What! N-no! I mean, it’s not like this is a date or like we’re—it’s nothing like that!”

“What is a _third wheel_?”

Ignoring Zylas, I focused on Amalia. “You’re the one who insisted on bringing him in,” I hissed. 

“I know! Lesson learned, god,” Amalia said with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. Her eyes flicked to Zylas again and she snorted. “Worth it, though.”

I followed her gaze to my demon in time to see him plop another piece of calzone into his mouth. Although the fork was beyond him, he was clearly familiar enough with a knife and had cut himself another human-portioned bite. His mouth moved in a few slow chews and then he sunk back in the booth. He looked like he’d died and gone to demon nirvana.

Giggling, I slid the plate back in front of me. “Okay. What were you saying about the grimoire?”

We chatted while we ate. I ended up giving Zylas a solid third of the calzone, and eventually even Amalia caved and offered him a single tiny bite of hers. He informed us that the vegetarian calzone was better, to which Amalia replied by sticking out her tongue and declaring this as proof that feeding a demon was nothing but a waste.

When the meal was finished, I settled against the backrest and set a hand on my satisfyingly full stomach. Amalia had gone off to find the bathroom, leaving me and Zylas alone. He, too, was settled in the corner of the booth and for a second I wondered if he’d fallen asleep.

“Better than my cookies?” I asked him with a teasing nudge. Something about daring to eat a calzone in public with a demon—and succeeding—had me feeling strangely optimistic. Maybe we didn’t know what Claude and the vampires were up to, but in that moment I felt content. We’d figure it out. We could do this.

The sunglasses blocked his eyes, but a wolfish grin slashed across his face. “ _Drādah_ , what is a _date_?”

Heat flooded my cheeks and I quickly decided that the check was the most interesting thing on the table. “I’ll, uh, tell you later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments are loved and appreciated <3 it is a small and lonely fandom...
> 
> any scenes you want me to write? let me know!!


	2. Fluff after battling the Īnkav

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunting Fiends for the Ill-Equipped - CHAPTER 27
> 
> If Amalia had been just a few more minutes delayed returning home...

“You are thinking very loud.”

Zylas stood in the shadowed doorway, his eyes deep and glittering with wicked mischief—and entirely locked on me.

My breath caught under the full weight of his attention. For a second, I didn’t know what he was talking about. I couldn’t remember what I’d even been thinking before he’d appeared in the doorway. 

“Thinking …?” I echoed. Then I remembered. He couldn’t mean—

He stepped toward me with slow, predatory movements.

“You said you couldn’t hear those kinds of thoughts!” I blurted as if the protest could make it true. 

Zylas halted a step from the couch and loomed over me. His eyes scanned my burning, bright red cheeks. Then he canted his head, a wolfish grin creeping across his lips. “I couldn’t before. Now I can. Maybe you want me to hear.”

“N-no—I mean—I didn’t think—” I stammered, scrambling to regain my composure. I buried my face in my hands, sure that my cheeks were hot enough to rival Zylas’s body temperature. Thinking about his body did not help in that moment. “Oh my god.”

He’d heard all of that? All my breathless reminiscing?

A warm exhale stirred my hair—then knuckles rapped lightly against my skull. “ _Zh’ūltis_.”

I glared up at him through a tiny gap between my fingers.

He leaned closer, leaving only inches between us. “You are being _zh’ūltis_ , _vayanin_.”

Huffing, I scooted sideways on the cushion and tried to not-so-subtly change the subject. “I thought we were past the insults.”

Crawling onto the crouch, Zylas shifted into the spot I’d vacated. “Don’t be _zh’ūltis_ and I will not call you _zh’ūltis_.”

“And how am I being stupid?” I said, increasing my glower as I shuffled farther away.

“You need me to explain?”

The predatory gleam in his crimson eyes intensified, narrowing in on me. He slid closer. When my shoulder hit the armrest, his eyes glinted with gloating victory. I was trapped.

I froze, hardly daring to breathe as he continued his hunt. He kneeled over me, bracing a hand on either side of my body and leaning so close I could feel the heat radiating off his body. My eyes flicked down his body—his smooth, reddish-toffee skin, the powerful dips and curves of his muscles.

He lowered his head, and I pressed back into the cushions. His nose grazed my cheek. His lips followed. A heartbeat later, he closed the final millimeters between us and captured my lips with his.

It was slower, this time. Soft and seeking and lazy as if Zylas intended to draw out the kiss for hours. I immediately melted against him and he pressed closer, sucking and nibbling on my lower lip as one hand shifted to tangle in my hair.

He broke the kiss too soon, but kept his forehead pressed against mine. Dazed, my eyes fluttered open to see his crimson eyes locked on mine.

“You choose me,” he murmured. “And I choose you.”

A warm, tingling thrill swooped through my chest at the bold simplicity of it. He _had_ chosen me. Eagerly, too—he hadn’t hesitated at my offer. At _both_ of my offers, now that I thought about it. My breath picked up at the memory of his hot tongue gliding along my fingers.

Zylas shifted his weight to one side, laying down so I was cradled between his body and the back of the couch. One arm curled under my waist and pulled me flush against him. I felt the rumble in his chest as he murmured. “ _Na_ , see? You are being _zh’ūltis_. There is no reason to be embarrassed.”

Despite his words, heat ignited my cheeks. I ducked my head to avoid his searching gaze, but we were tucked so close together that the movement had me nuzzling against the hot skin of his torso. Zylas pressed his face into my hair and inhaled.

“Just… nervous, I guess,” I mumbled into his very shirtless, very bare chest. “I’ve never…”

His free hand ghosted up the length of my arm, so soft and teasing that I shivered. Then his fingers trailed back down, hovering at my wrist before entwining his fingers with mine. He tugged, gentle. I let him guide my hand to his abs, where he pressed my palm flat against his skin.

“Touch, _vayanin_.” A teasing lilt crept into his voice, and warm breath brushed across my ear as he spoke. “I know now how much you have wanted to touch my _perfect abs_.”

My hands automatically splayed across his skin. My cheeks, already flaming red, somehow ignited hotter. I told myself it was the proximity to Zylas and his above-average temperature, but if I said it out loud, I knew Zylas would hear the lie for what it was.

“Bully,” I murmured. But exhilaration pulsed through my veins at the smooth, unyielding skin beneath my fingers. I dragged my hand up the hard ridges of his abs, exploring. Heat pooled in my core as I sucked in a shuddering breath. Calling his body perfect wasn’t even an exaggeration.

A contented hum rumbled through Zylas’s chest. He released my hand and shifted to band both arms around me, then tugged me even closer as if he could eliminate the distance between us completely. The strength in his biceps sent an even hotter thrill plummeting through from my chest and down to my gut. 

I felt his smile curl against my hair.

_I like it when you touch me, vayanin._

My heart flitted at his words. Bolder now, my hand continued its hungry exploration. Up to his toned pecs, back down to the ripple of his abs, around the curve of his hips. A sudden ache to explore his entire body washed over me.

I swallowed heavily. I forced myself to suck in a breath.

“Zylas?” I stammered, so quiet it was almost a whisper. “Y-you can… You can touch under my clothes now.”

Zylas didn’t reply. I waited a moment longer before daring to shift enough to see his face.

He was asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> he's still recovering from the īnkav


	3. More HUGGING

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunting Fiends for the Ill-Equipped - CHAPTER 20
> 
> If Ezra and Amalia had been a bit more delayed returning to the apartment...
> 
> requested by DCatWalker. there are a lot of cute scenes in annette's series, but i've come to decide this one (in canon) is my favorite.

“I bound myself to you. Only you, _vayanin_.”

Zylas’s crimson eyes locked onto mine, his gaze so intense it felt like he was trying to pierce through to read my mind. Like he was looking for an answer to a question he hadn’t spoken.

But my mind was blank. Even if I knew what he was looking for, I didn’t have the words to voice it. I was snared by the intensity of his expression, by his strong hands sliding across my hips to my legs, by the warmth seeping through my jeans.

His gaze drifted to the floor.

Recognition tore through my chest. I’d had more conversations with the floor than I could count, but seeing that uncertainty, that vulnerability in Zylas almost undid me. I’d never seen him like this.

Swallowing a heavy lump in my throat, I pushed off the bed and dropped to my knees beside him. I threw my arms around his neck and tugged him close, squeezing with all my wimpy human strength. Burying my face in his throat, I sucked in a deep breath of his intoxicating hickory and leather scent.

For a moment he didn’t move. Shocked or taken aback by my show of affection, I didn’t know. Then his arms slid around my waist and across my back, locking me tight against him.

In the Arcana Atrium, Zylas had told me that “protect” meant keeping me safe, and that I didn’t feel safe if I was scared or alone. Maybe that’s all this was to him—a duty to make me feel less alone, less afraid. But maybe not.

His body was all heat and hard muscle—strong, powerful, thrilling. I leaned in, nuzzling my face against his neck as warmth and comfort and contentment surged through me. Months ago, being pinned by the big scary demon like this might have left me trembling, but now, I’d never felt so safe. I only wanted him to hold me closer.

Zylas tilted his head to bury his nose in my hair. One hand shifted higher to cradle the back of my head. Zylas had always had a loose definition of personal space, but he’d never held me like this. Like I was important. Like I was cherished. Like he just needed to be close to me. It calmed a frantic, confused part of me that had wracked at my nerves ever since reading Myrrine’s entries. 

A desperate wish that I knew what a hug signified in the demon world fluttered through my head, but I shoved it away. Maybe something had changed between us. Maybe it wasn’t just a contract anymore. But I didn’t want to let myself overthink it. I simply melted into him, savoring every second of his warmth.

But as I felt safe and loved in Zylas’s arms, I realized that his grip on me had only tightened. Despite our many minutes of hugging, his entire body was still tight with tension.

“Zylas…?” I ventured, barely a whisper.

As my mind rocketed back into reality, familiar uncertainty swooped through my chest. 

This was Zylas. Meanie, close-to-the-chest Zylas who teased me at every opportunity. It felt so presumptuous to assume he was holding me like this because he  _ liked  _ me or something. He  _ had  _ to care about my safety—the magic forced him to. Zylas didn’t do things that didn’t benefit him somehow. Maybe it was only because of the contract after all. Maybe he thought he hadn’t done enough to protect me?

“What’s wrong?” I pressed. More uncertainty clamped down on my hopeful heart. It had to be the contract bothering him. I wanted to see his face, but I couldn’t bring myself to pull away and break the moment.

“ _ Vayanin… _ ” he murmured against my ear. His breath tickled my skin. “Thinking about you hurt… it is as upsetting to me as if I am hurt instead.”

My breath hitched. 

Before I could even try to gather my frazzled thoughts and reply, he yanked away from me—far enough to see my face, but not far enough to break the grip of my arms around his neck. I realized then that I was practically sitting on his lap, with one of his arms looped around my hips to keep me from falling backwards.

His eyes locked onto mine. For the second time that evening, his piercing crimson gaze bore into me, searching for  _ something— _

“I will protect you always. Contract  _ v _ _ ī _ _ sh  _ does not matter,” his said, low and husky. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to mine. “Even if there is no  _ v _ _ ī _ _ sh _ , I will protect you.”

There was something raw and desperate in his voice, like he needed me to understand. And I did. Zylas didn’t lie.

My heart sputtered before kicking back up, more frantic than before. It wasn’t just my own wild fantasies imagining something had changed, grown, blossomed between us. Zylas had noticed it too.

“Really?” I mumbled, stupidly. It was all my muddled brain could think to ask while it was still wrangling with the truth— _ the undeniable proof _ —that Zylas cared about me. Genuinely cared. 

His lips pressed together and I was sure he’d snap at me for questioning the truth of his words. But he gave a sharp nod instead. 

“Yes,” he said. The hand that had been cradling my head slid around to cup my cheek, and I instinctively tilted into his touch. “I promise it.”

My thoughts fluttered to Myrrine’s questions from the last entry I’d read, wondering whether a demon could return her feelings. I felt a blush creep up my neck and into my cheeks.

He tugged me close and we were hugging again. A low, frustrated growl rumbled through his chest. “I do not like it, this  _ empathy _ . We will train again until you have good instincts.”

I scowled, remembering the last time he’d tried to train me. “Not in the rain this time. And don’t you dare get me muddy on purpose again.”

“This, I do not promise.” In one fluid movement, Zylas rose to his feet, pulling me with him. A wolfish grin flashed across his face. “Amalia has found the _Dh’irath_ and his  _hh’ainun_ outside.”

It took me a second to realize he was talking about Ezra. I’d completely forgotten! “Right. Let’s interrupt that before we end up with a dead demon mage on our doorstep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i thought about having Zylas reveal the truth about the contract in this version, buuuut i decided i just wanted more fluff and no angst of dealing with that truth bomb.
> 
> thinking about doing the chocolates scene next ;)


	4. The infamous chocolates scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunting Fiends for the Ill-Equipped - CHAPTER 12
> 
> If Robin's nerves had held out just a liiittle bit longer...

I watched Zylas’s tongue trace a slow, roving path across the caramel smearing his bottom lip.

His intense gaze burned into me. My spine prickled at the sudden unwavering attention of the predator standing so close.

“ _ Vayanin _ ?”

His voice was deeper, huskier—low with heat I had no idea how to decipher. If gifting food was the demon equivalent of flirting, then hand feeding like that— 

“Uhh…” I dragged my gaze away from him and fixed my attention on my caramel coated fingers as if it could unscramble my fried brain. “That wasn’t … I mean …” 

When I tried to spin toward the sink, Zylas caught my wrist and elbow. He tugged me back to face him, his grip gentle but firm.

Crimson gaze locked on me, Zylas slowly lifted my hand to his mouth.

The room spun. There suddenly wasn’t enough oxygen in the room and my traitorous lungs refused to even try sucking in breath. I could only watch, heart hammering against my ribs, as his lips slowly parted. As he tugged my sticky hand closer. As his hot mouth closed around my fingers.

My knees nearly buckled as sensations flooded my nerves. The heat of his mouth, the scrape of his canines. His tongue traced the curve of my knuckle with burning, teasing attention as he sucked every smear of caramel from my skin. He lingered at my fingertips, crimson eyes smoldering and lidded as if he were savoring the finest delicacy.

By the time he pulled my fingers from his mouth, my composure was in shambles. But he wasn’t done. Turning my hand with aching tenderness, he ran his hot tongue against the sensitive underside of my wrist and up the curve of my thumb, licking away the last of the caramel. At the pad of my thumb he paused, his eyes searching mine as if looking for an answer to a question he hadn’t asked. 

I stared back at him, my mind utterly blank. All I knew is that I didn’t want him to stop.

Hand tightening on my elbow, Zylas pulled me closer—closer to his heat, to those eyes holding me hostage. I slid easily across the floor until I was pressed against his chest, our noses inches apart.

He held my gaze a moment longer before his head dipped closer. His lips brushed mine—tentative, curious, questioning. 

My thoughts fizzled. Some distant, logical part of me pointed out that Zylas was a breath away from kissing me. And I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think what it meant, how I felt about it. I was utterly frozen in place, lungs empty with breathless anticipation.

When he closed the final space between us, the kiss was soft. A shy invitation, a tentative exploration of lips. Demure and chaste and lingering, then over so fast it left me reeling.

Gently, Zylas pulled away. A grin flashed across his face—but muted somehow. Dazed, as if his mind was as fuzzy with disbelief as mine.

“Choose another one,  _ vayanin _ ,” he murmured. His gaze didn’t leave me as he pressed the flavor legend into my hands.

Blushing furiously, I dragged my eyes away to look at the legend. The words blurred. I couldn’t think beyond his warm hand wrapped around my waist, his solid torso pressed against mine. More or less at random, I picked up another chocolate.

His fingers brushed mine as he took the chocolate from me. Again, he leaned into my space until his breath tickled across my skin. He pressed the chocolate to my mouth. My lips parted automatically and I bit into the delicacy, my eyes never leaving his.

Filling spilled over my lips. Tart cherry hit my tastebuds. Cherry cordial—unarguably the messiest chocolate in any assortment. 

Zylas didn’t hesitate. He swooped closer to drag his hot tongue across my chin, licking up every tangy drop that had escaped. Shifting up, he caught my lower lip between his, nibbling and sucking, desperate to find every sticky smear of cherry filling.

This time when his mouth covered mine, there was no hesitation, no caution. He pressed into me, his lips moving hungrily. I melted into his arms. When my lips parted on a gasp, his tongue swooped in to find mine. 

A breathy moan escaped me. My skin blazed everywhere he touched. My eyes fluttered closed as the kitchen fell away. I didn’t know what happened to the other half of the chocolate. I didn’t care. My sensations were overloaded with Zylas’s lips, his heat, his fingers in my hair, his bold, unwavering attention on me.

A sleek crimson presence swept into my mind, fierce and passionate. It wasn’t anything like the last time against Vasilii. His presence was all around me, threaded with mine, filling me with a deluge of his thoughts and emotions.

I pressed closer, delirious with the newfound closeness. Heat swooped through my core. My knees wobbled and Zylas banded one arm around my waist, supporting my weight. My hands slid into his messy hair and I gripped his horns, tugging him closer.

_ Touch me touch me touch me _

A rumble vibrated his chest. Zylas shifted so that he was pressing me back into the counter. He must have heard my silent plea, because suddenly his hands roamed my sides, my hips, my back. Venturing fingers teased the hem of my shirt. I shuddered at the brush of his fingertips against my bare skin.

Too soon, Zylas’s lips broke away. Before I could whine a complaint and try to drag him back down, his hot, wet mouth traced across my cheek and to my neck. When his canines brushed my vulnerable throat, I moaned.

“This is okay,  _ vayanin _ ?” he murmured, low and husky against my ear. A thought flashed from him to me—an urge to explore my soft stomach and sides.

“Yes,” I gasped. Way more than just okay.

His hand plunged under my shirt and across my bare side, sending sparks through my veins everywhere he touched. He moved in slow, almost teasing circles that had me trembling with pleasure. 

_ So soft, vayanin. _

The husky caress of his voice in my head ignited my desire all over again. My fist in his hair tightened. My lips longed to kiss him again, but that would mean his mouth leaving my neck and I didn’t want that, either.

He caught my earlobe between his pointed canines. “You like this?”

I couldn’t speak. A thought flitted between us—a desperate fantasy involving Zylas’s mouth and the current placement of his hand. I didn’t know which of us had provided the idea, but I did feel our mutual approval of it. 

Before I could think, Zylas’s strong hands bracketed my hips and lifted me onto the counter. His face burrowed under my shirt and captured a tender spot by my hip in a hot, sucking kiss. I buried my hands in his hair and clung on for dear life as his predatory teeth brushed my skin, sending tingles shooting through my entire body.

Another groan rumbled through him and he surged into me with renewed intensity, his kisses ravenous and desperate. He inched higher, leaving a trail of wet, scorching kisses up my ribcage.

My legs hooked around his torso, dragging him closer. Strong hands gripped my butt and locked me tight against him. Heat was building in my core, begging for release. When I shifted, a jolt of pleasure rolled up from the apex of my thighs straight to my frantic, erratic heartbeat.

When Zylas’s mouth reached the underside of my bra, a keening moan burst from my lips. One hand shot back for balance against the counter—and landed smack on the tray of chocolates. The box flipped, sending chocolates spraying everywhere and the empty box clattering to the floor.

Startled, Zylas jolted away from me. His eyes, dilated and blown wide, shot down to the box, now laying mournfully empty on the kitchen floor among its ruined contents.

When his smoldering gaze returned to me, my brain stalled. The kitchen was quiet except for my gasping breaths. For a long moment, I was detached from reality, looking down at my body in a daze of disbelief and amazement. 

Slowly, my dazed mind pieced together a replay of the last few minutes as volcanic levels of heat crept up my neck and burned my cheeks.

Zylas’s stare didn’t falter. He was waiting for me to respond, to say something—except the part of my brain responsible for words had short-circuited. I didn’t know what to say. I had no idea how to interpret what this meant for us.

Face burning, I straightened my shirt. “I, uh, take it you liked the chocolates, then?”

His predatory gaze raked across my blushing cheeks, my lips, my throat—then flicked back to my eyes. A wolfish grin flashed across his face. “Delicious.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this could have been your life, robin. (insert "congratulations, you played yourself" gif here)
> 
> there are a lot of things i want in book 4, and zylas hand feeding robin is one of them


End file.
